


Some Fresh, Clear, Well-Seasoned Perspective (with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947)

by vorpalblades



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Chef AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorpalblades/pseuds/vorpalblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared loves cooking, though his parents don’t seem to understand why. So when the opportunity arises for him to help at a renowned restaurant, he jumps on it. Added bonus: he gets to work with the guy he’s had a crush on for years. Everything is absolutely perfect, provided his parents don’t find out what he’s doing on his holiday vacation.</p>
<p>Written for the final round of j2_everafter, prompt Ratatouille</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Fresh, Clear, Well-Seasoned Perspective (with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947)

The Padaleckis are accountants. Full stop.

Jared’s father is an accountant, as are Jared’s grandfather and uncles. Jared’s parents met at a firm in the city where they both got jobs shortly after college. Jared’s brother? You get two guesses, and the first one doesn’t count. Even his little sister has top marks in her AP Calculus class and is looking forward to joining the business some day.

That’s not the problem. Jared would actually be glad if that was the sum of the family legacy. He’d even feel better about essentially being pressured into studying math in college.

However, the Padaleckis are also _boring_ accountants. They’re logical, analytical and strictly by-the-ledger. The family is all about abatements and dividends and insolvency, with little time to even consider anything else. April 15th is Tax Day, yet his family celebrates like it’s New Year’s Eve. 

It’s embarrassing, as far as Jared’s concerned. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why he’s considered the red ink of the family. (He once tried to explain that the expression was "black sheep." They didn’t listen.)

*

Almost everyone in their area remembers the week that Alan’s Bistro opened. The restaurant had been built just on the edge of their relatively small town, with only a few local farms for neighbors. There had never been anything in the area fancier than the Olive Garden 10 miles north, but within the first two days of the Bistro’s doors opening, there was already talk about it being three-star worthy.

Jared had been thirteen at the time. His family had been invited to the opening by the mayor himself, who had hired Jared’s father as his personal accountant three years prior. He remembers looking at the menu and being amazed by the choice of dishes, most of which he’d never heard of before.

He’d ordered the coq au vin because the first word was "cock." Don’t judge, he was _thirteen._

But that first bite... Everything changed for Jared in that moment. 

During the entire drive home, his mother had complained about how rich everything had been, and his father kept talking about what a waste of money it must be to eat like that all of the time. Jared, though, had known he would never again be content with the microwave meals his mom served almost every night.

Now, nearly a decade later, the Bistro is a staple of the area. People travel hours to get to a reservation they made a month in advance. Celebrities have even walked their streets. And the restaurant owner, Alan Ackles, is an old familiar face around town.

As is his family. Or maybe it’s just that way to Jared, because every time he comes home from college, it seems Jensen Ackles is always the first person he sees.

Though that may be because Jared always detours by the Bistro on his way home. He never goes in, couldn’t afford it on the meager monthly allowance his parents still send him, but a quick drive down the rural road always gives him a clear view of Jensen, who has been working the front of house since Jared left for his freshman year of college.

*

Jared once tried to approach the subject of a different focus for him in school. Let’s just say the phrase "no son of mine will waste my money on culinary school" is so ingrained into Jared’s memory now that he has a difficult time even watching the Food Network.

You see, the first time he ate at the dorm cafeteria was also the first time Jared realized he wasn’t going to get odd looks from his folks if he asked for pepper to season his food a little more. Or if he added guacamole to his grilled cheese because it tasted better that way. This was freedom, new opportunities opening right before him. Hence asking his parents about switching his education and subsequently realizing it was never going to happen.

Doesn’t change the fact that he has a bit of a reputation in his dorm now. He’d volunteered to try cooking once for his roommate freshman year, and now their room is the place to be Sunday night when Jared debuts a new recipe. People pay their way in with ingredients (Jared has never, ever had to buy his own saffron, even though it’s his favorite and he goes through it like very expensive water), and every week he cooks a completely different dish, with everyone crammed into the tiny dorm kitchen to watch him make something amazing.

In three and a half years, he’s only had one complete failure (and he’s never attempting licorice sauce ever again).

* 

It’s the final winter break of Jared’s undergraduate career, and he’s determined that this year will be the year he finally talks his mother into letting him prepare Christmas dinner, rather than them ordering Chinese takeout _again_. He’s got a proposal speech planned out; he’s prepared for any and all objections, and he brought home enough dried thyme, tarragon and sage for a twenty-pound bird. Plus, he has two weeks before Christmas to actually wear her down to the point of saying yes.

He’s mentally going through his speech yet again and almost drives right by the Bistro without his customary glance at Jensen. Flashing red lights catch his attention though, and he pulls to the side of the road just as an ambulance turns out of the Bistro’s parking lot and speeds away, sirens blaring. Following closely behind it is the black pickup Jared has come to recognize as Mr. Ackles’ truck, only Mrs. Ackles is behind the wheel, wiping furiously at her eyes.

There’s a crowd of people standing in the lot watching the ambulance leave, most of them wearing chef whites, and Jared can make out Jensen’s face among them. Jared waits until he’s sure that no one else is leaving the lot, then he pulls in and parks. By the time he’s gotten out of his car, some of the crowd has gone back inside. Jensen’s still standing in the lot with his hands buried in his hair, and he keeps glancing between the restaurant and his car, like he can’t decide which one to go to. An auburn-haired lady in whites, the saucier if Jared remembers correctly, is standing at Jensen’s side with her hand resting in the crook of his elbow.

“Hey,” Jared says as he jogs up to where they’re standing. “Is everyone okay?”

The lady hits him with a glare that stops him in his tracks. “Obviously not, jackass.” This close, Jared can read “Danneel” embroidered in fancy script on the breast pocket of her jacket. She turns her attention back to Jensen, and her voice is much more soothing when she says, “Jensen, go. We’ll close for the night. Your mom needs you right now.”

Jensen shakes his head. “No, not thirty minutes before we open. We can’t cancel that many reservations. Dad wouldn’t want that to happen.” He drops his hands and takes a deep breath. “No, we’ll stay open tonight. I’ll start calling tomorrow’s reservations, though, and explain the situation.”

“Is there anything I can do?” It’s out before Jared really thinks about what he’s saying, but he’s always so ready to help in any situation that it’s habit by now. “Not cooking or anything, obviously, but I can definitely handle scrubbing a pot or two if you need the extra hands.”

The look she throws at his this time is more confusion than anything. “Who _are_ you?”

“That’s Jared,” Jensen supplies, and any other time, Jared would probably be visibly jumping for joy that Jensen knows his name. “I appreciate the offer, but…” He pauses for a moment, then runs a hand over his face. “Actually, you know what. Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” 

When Danneel opens her mouth to object, Jensen cuts her off. “It’s going to be a mess back there, Danni. Having someone around to tackle the small things will make a big difference, right?” He turns and, for the first time ever, looks Jared straight in the eyes. “Are you sure about this, man?”

Jared smiles. “Just point me in the direction of a sink.”

*

The kitchen is huge. Jared’s not sure what he was expecting, but this is definitely more than the four-burner stove and finicky oven he works with at his dorm. Everywhere he looks, he catches the gleam of shining appliances.

And the smell… Jared’s certain that, even at his best, he’s never been able to produce something that smelled this amazing. It’s all just prep work, but there are already items simmering, roasting and baking, and Jared wants to close his eyes and breathe it all in.

There’s no time, though, as Jensen hurriedly tours him through the stations in the kitchen and then leads him to the giant sink in the back, where there’s already a hill of pots and pans waiting. “Okay,” Jensen says. “Everyone’s going to be running a little frantic tonight, so try not to get in the way. Remember, there’s a lot of sharp knives and hot pans, so moving too quickly or quietly will get you hurt. If you have any questions, ask Osric here.” Jensen pats on the back of a younger guy standing at the sink, who’s already elbows deep in soapy water. Then he’s out the door and Jared is officially working in a kitchen.

They work out a system. Osric handles the equipment like the industrial dishwasher and runs around the kitchen, gathering pots and pans that need to be washed. And Jared scrubs like he’s never scrubbed before. He can’t feel his fingers.

Osric is pretty friendly and very chatty. Less than an hour into service, he’s already told Jared all about his family, his future ambitions in the kitchen and the story of what had happened that afternoon.

“He just collapsed. Right there,” Osric says while nodding toward the second set of stoves. “Paramedics said it was probably a heart attack, which sucks because Chef was all about the cardio. And if it hits him, what hope do the rest of us have, right?” He grabs the stack of pans that Jared just finished washing. “Jen hasn’t come back with any updates, but I’m going to go with the whole ‘no news is good news’ scenario.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jared says. It’s true, though. He hasn’t seen or heard a hint of Jensen since he left Jared in Osric’s capable hands. It’s a little disappointing, but like Osric said, no news and all that.

Osric is setting up another load of dishes in the washer when there’s a loud clatter of metal on tile flooring. He looks over in time to see Misha, one of the line cooks, bending to pick up a spilled pan of what looks like sautéed duck. Osric grabs a nearby mop, but Jared stops him and says to focus on getting the dishes going. He can handle a little mopping.

When he gets to the spill, Misha has collected almost all of the meat back into the pan. Danneel has rushed over too to help get another round of duck going, which might have been a mistake. Jared glances over at her saucepans before he starts mopping and moves one away from the burner.

“What are you doing? Don’t touch that.” Danneel looks pissed.

“Sorry,” Jared says, throwing his hands up and taking a few steps back. “Sorry. Your béarnaise was separating. I was just trying to help before it got to be unfixable.”

“You… oh, thanks.” She looks between Jared and the pan. “You recognized the sauce?”

“Yeah, it’s not citrusy enough to be a hollandaise.”

Danneel’s look turns shrewd. “Interesting. You gonna mop this up so that we can get back to work?”

*

It’s 11 p.m., and Jared just remembered that he never called his folks to let them know he’d been delayed.

But, he’s face to face with Jensen again, so the call can wait just a little bit longer.

“I really can’t thank you enough,” Jensen’s telling him. “Danni said you were a huge help back there. She also mentioned that you might have a bit of kitchen experience.”

“Just personal cooking. But I love working with classic recipes.”

“Ever cook for a crowd?”

“The third flood of my dorm every Sunday night. Best fed college crew you’ll ever meet. You should have seen their reactions the night I made beef wellington.”

That gets him a small smile from Jensen. “Look, we don’t know when or even if my father will be able to return to the kitchen. And this time of year is the absolute worst for us to be closed. You should have heard the responses I got from people when I called them tonight to cancel their tables tomorrow. I know you’re on vacation and everything, but do you think you could come in during the next few weeks, fill in as a line cook while we get things shuffled around?”

Jared is practically vibrating with excitement once he realizes what Jensen’s offering. “Are you kidding me? Yes, absolutely yes.”

Jensen gets the most adorable eye crinkles when he smiles. Jared’s never been able to see that from when he’s driven by the Bistro. “You’ll be helping out so much. We’ll need to order you a coat since I know for a fact that nothing we have in the back will fit you. Give me your number, and I’ll get you the schedule and times later on.” Jared rattles off his phone number while Jensen saves it to his cell. “Got it. Thanks again, Jared. Seriously. Not many people would step up like that. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head over to the hospital and see if my mom needs anything. Danni will help you guys with final cleanup.”

It’s not until Jared’s back home and nursing his aching feet that he wonders what it means that Jensen knew he was on vacation.

*

Jared doesn’t tell his parents about his new plans for the holiday break. He’s not stupid. Instead, he just mentions that he’ll be catching up with friends while he’s home and to not wait up for him at night.

The downfall of being from a small town, however, is that good gossip travels quickly. By the following afternoon, practically everyone knows about Chef Alan’s heart attack, and most people have heard that the Bistro received some last-second help. His name’s been kept out of it so far, but it’s just a matter of time.

*

Jensen calls two days after that first night, with instructions to be at the Bistro the next day by noon. 

The place is already a mad house by the time Jared gets there. Jensen tosses him an apron – “your jacket hasn’t come in yet” – and leads him over to Aldis and Alona’s station. Mise en place, then. Awesome.

“We moved things around so that Aldis is joining the line with Genevieve and Chad, Misha’s tackling sauces and Danneel is acting head cook,” Jensen’s explaining. “So, you’ll be handling prep work. It’s mostly chopping, light sautéing and such. Not much direct cooking, but you gotta understand: cooking one thing for twenty people isn’t the same as filling twenty individual orders at the same time.”

“Oh no, I get it,” Jared assures him, smiling the whole time.

"Once service starts, the cooks will let you know what they need and when. Until then, it's all about getting the basics ready to go. I'll let Alona show you where to go from here." And then Jensen's gone. Again.

Alona is a hoot. She's not as chatty as Osric was, but she's sharp as a tack and beautifully sarcastic. And truth be told, Jared's a little intimidated by her knife skills. She sets him up with the responsibilities that don’t require a lot of experience, like peeling garlic, shredding cheese and slicing vegetables. He’s a little slow on the mandoline slicer, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t want to lose a layer of skin. Like last time he tried to use one.

He’s so caught up in the work that he nearly misses it when Jensen comes back into the kitchen an hour before service. Jensen speaks briefly with Danneel, then the wait staff enters for a quick taste test of the night’s specials. Mark, the sommelier, joins them and starts rattling off suggested wine pairings with his British accent. Jared can’t help smiling as he listens to it all.

As the servers leave again, Jensen sidesteps them and heads toward the prep station. “How’s it going over here, Alona?” He’s speaking to her but looking right at Jared when he does.

“Not bad. Give Tall, Dark, and Handsome here a few more hours of practice on the slicer, and he’ll be damn near perfect.”

Jensen smiles. “Glad to hear it,” he says, clapping Jared on the back.

*

Service is hell. 

Jared had only gotten a taste of it the other day, but now that he’s in the thick of it, chopping and slicing, he realizes the absolute mayhem these people have dealt with on a daily basis.

Throughout the night, he’s had people coming up to him, thanking him again for helping out, sometimes even asking him to taste something to make sure it’s been seasoned enough. After the first hour, Alona stopped watching him like a hawk and let him loose with general directions, barking out orders when needed.

By the time it’s all over, he’s hearing the echo of knives on cutting boards, and his right wrist keeps popping. His shoulders are killing him, and he thinks he got carrot shavings in his hair at some point in the evening. 

And he fucking loves it.

He feels like he’s glowing, he’s so damn happy, and it’s only getting better because Jensen’s finally back in the kitchen, waving goodbye as everyone leaves while smiling at Jared and thanking him yet again. He’s telling Jared how they’ll probably need him back the next night, when Jensen’s stomach gurgles loudly. Jensen cuts himself off with an embarrassed smile.

“How can you be…?” Jared starts. “Didn’t you eat something?”

“Nah, there’s never any time for me to get away while the restaurant’s open,” Jensen explains. “I normally heat up something prior to coming in, but I headed here straight from the hospital and didn’t have time.”

Jared grabs a nearby stool and places it at the edge of the counter. “Sit.” When Jensen just stares, Jared walks up behind him and gently pushes down on Jensen’s shoulders. “I said sit.” Chuckling, Jensen does.

Jared walks through the pantry quickly, grabbing random items as he’s inspired to do so. He knows he’s going to make something small, since it’s late, and too heavy would be a bad idea. Maybe comfort food. He looks down everything in his arms, from the fresh cavatelli someone made earlier to the gruyere, and it’s so obvious but perfect. He sets one of the ovens to heat and grabs a ramekin on his way back to the station where Jensen is still sitting, watching Jared with an amused expression on his face.

One more trip back to the pantry, and Jared’s ready. He sets a pot on a burner, gently warming milk, butter, flour and the gruyere together, along with some fontina, gorgonzola, and spices that he grabbed on his second trip. Soon, it’s all creamy goodness, and he mixes in the pasta to coat it all with the sauce. He spoons the mix into the ramekin, sprinkles in some chopped prosciutto and drizzles a little white truffle oil on top. Then, he throws it into the oven to bake.

Jensen’s quiet the entire time Jared works. It’s only mildly uncomfortable, so while the food cooks, Jared’s driven to break the silence. “How’s your dad doing?”

“Good,” Jensen says. “Well, not _good_ , but better than he could be. He’s awake, and the doctors say it wasn’t the worst they’ve ever seen. I think he’s just ready to get out of the hospital and back home, but they wanted to keep him for monitoring.”

 

“Any idea of when he’ll be back here?”

Jensen shrugs. “Probably a few weeks. He won’t be able to work all of service like before, but at least he’ll be back.” Jared catches the hint of relief in Jensen’s voice as he says that last bit.

The conversation turns to small talk, and by the time the food is cooked, they’re both chuckling together like old friends. Jared pulls the mac and cheese from the oven, and it’s just as bubbly and gooey as he was hoping. He grabs a fork from the rack of clean dishes and places it all in front of Jensen with a flourish. “Voila!” 

Jensen cocks an eyebrow, as if to say _“you’re kidding,”_ but it doesn’t stop him from taking a bite. And another one. A moment later, he’s practically shoveling his food, and Jared’s legitimately concerned he’s going to burn the roof of his mouth any second. Jared’s also thinking he probably should have made a larger portion.

“Good, I take it?” Jared asks when Jensen stops eating long enough to take a breath. The guy ducks his head and looks a little sheepish when Jared asks, but he’s very clearly enjoying the food, so Jared’s not going to give him too hard of a time.

“You really are talented, Jared. Are you studying cooking?”

Jared ignores the cold shot to his gut the question brings and tries to keep any bitterness out of his answer of, “No, accounting.” He doesn’t think he was too successful though, as Jensen doesn’t ask any more about it and just goes back to his food.

Eventually, the bowl is empty and Jensen looks like he’s about to try licking around the inside to find anything that might be left. Jared plucks the ramekin from his hand to eliminate any temptation and drops it and Jensen’s fork into the sink. “I’ll clean up quickly so that you can lock up,” he tells Jensen, already filling the sink with water to manually wash it all.

He’s drying the sauce pot when Jensen says, “Hey, Jared? I feel like I’ve been saying this to you a lot, but thanks. For the food and for listening. I really appreciate it.”

Jared looks over his shoulder, and Jensen’s smiling shyly at him. “Anytime.”

*

The next day, when Jared arrives at the restaurant, Jensen’s already running around, busy with something, and can’t talk much. He has enough time to wave at Jared, point him toward Alona again, and give him a thumbs up before he runs off to handle something in the restaurant office. 

Jared’s just picked up a knife when Danneel walks over to their station, hands on her hips, and says, “Well?”

“Well what?” Jared asks, confused.

“The recipe. I need it.” When Jared can do nothing else but stare at her, uncomprehending, she rolls her eyes and sighs. “The mac and cheese? If we’re featuring it tonight as a special, I need to know how you make it.”

Jared gasps and promptly chokes on his own spit.

He can only imagine the picture he’s making right now, bent over and coughing as Alona slaps him on the back, but it must be hilarious if the look on Danneel’s face is anything to go by. “When you’re done,” she says, “come talk to me.”

Jared has almost recovered by the time Jensen walks into the kitchen again. As he passes Jared’s station, he spins on his heel, winks at Jared, turns back and walks off. Jared nearly collapses again.

*

The mac and cheese is popular all night. Apparently, some people even suggest for it to be added to the regular menu.

* 

That night, when Jensen comes back to the kitchen after close, Jared’s ready for him with a grilled cheese sandwich (made with sharp cheddar, havarti, smoked gouda and avocado slices) and the sincerest thank you he’s ever given in his life. Jensen smiles and digs in.

* 

Somehow, it becomes a _thing_. Jared’s still not sure how this happened. On the nights he works, after service ends and everyone else leaves, he makes something for Jensen. It’s never anything like a full meal, but he’s always proud of what he cooks. And Jensen seems to like it, considering nearly everything ends up featured with the following day’s specials. 

Plus, as Jensen eats, they get to talking. Jared’s discovered more about Jensen than he ever dreamed he could all of those years he just drove by the Bistro. He’s learned how Jensen’s brother and sister are both away at college, but Jensen chose to stick around and help with the family business. According to Jensen, he definitely didn’t inherit his father’s skill with food – “I’ve screwed up tomato soup from a can before” – but he hopes to take over managing in the years to come.

Mostly, Jared sits there, listens to these great stories Jensen tells, and kinda maybe falls for the guy.

How did his volunteering to wash dishes for a night turn into this?

A week and a half goes by quickly, and Jared wakes up two days before Christmas realizing that he still hasn’t spoken to his mom about cooking the holiday dinner. Hell, he’s barely seen his parents the whole time he’s been home, what with them working at the office during the day and him at the restaurant most nights. On the nights they’re all together, there’s enough time to talk about school or the business and eat another lousy microwave meal before his folks call it a night so they can get an early start, like always.

Chances are she’s already made a call to the Chinese restaurant to place their usual take-out order.

Tonight’s the big holiday bonanza at the Bistro. Chef Alan always closes the restaurant for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so that the employees can spend it with their families, therefore December 23rd is when they truly celebrate. It’s a fixed 6-course menu, $120 a seat, and rumor has it you have to make a reservation a year in advance.

The kitchen is a little more insane than normal. Jared had thought that having a set menu would have made things a little easier, but now everyone’s focused on achieving perfection. Alona makes Jared throw out a diced onion because the pieces weren’t uniform. Twice.

And Jensen hasn’t made an appearance in the kitchen all night. It’s a little disappointing, all things considered, though Jared supposes the poor guy is a little busy up front. He brought a gift to give Jensen for Christmas, a small Lego X-Wing he picked up after their debate on Star Wars versus Star Trek, and it’s burning a hole in Jared’s pocket. He’ll see Jensen afterwards, though, and give it to him then.

Except, at 30 minutes to close, Jensen comes into the kitchen and tells everyone to kill the burners, put down their knives and gather together. Once everyone is assembled, he leads them all into the dining area, under the spotlights at the front of house, where all of the night’s diners are watching them with smiles on their faces. 

Jensen steps in front of them and addresses their audience. “I’d like to thank everyone for joining us for our traditional Christmastime dinner. It’s usually my father standing in front of you all, giving his holiday speech, but as most of you probably know, the last few weeks have been difficult for my family and he couldn’t be here tonight. Instead, it falls to me to present the best staff that anyone could ever ask for. These fine people behind me stepped up when we needed them most, some of whom didn’t even have a reason to,” he’s looking right at Jared when he says that. “A Christmas miracle, if you will. Let me introduce them. This is Danneel Harris, lead chef for the evening. Our cooks, Misha Collins, Aldis Hod—”

“Jared?” The voice comes from the back. Jared might not be able to see him through the dim lighting, but he’d recognize that voice anywhere. He’d forgotten. He’d totally forgotten that the mayor still insists on bringing Jared’s father here every year during the holidays. He stands there, stunned and light-headed, as his father calls again, “Jared, what are you doing up there?”

Jensen’s hand on his shoulder jerks him out of it. “Hey,” Jensen says softly. “You okay?”

Jared doesn’t think. He just turns around, walks back into the kitchen and out the back door.

*

It’s not until he’s upstairs in his room, having driven in a daze and mumbling something to his mother’s greeting when he got home, that Jared realizes he’s still wearing his chef’s coat. The custom one that Jensen had ordered just for him. He usually leaves it at the restaurant so that there was no chance of his parents seeing it.

Little good that does now.

He hears his father get home about 30 minutes later. Jared sits tensely on his bed, waiting for the man to storm up the stairs and demand to know what the hell he’d been thinking, but it never comes.

Jared can’t tell if that’s better or worse.

*

After a night of uneasy sleep, he’s woken in the morning by a soft knock on his door. “Jared, sweetie,” his mom says from the hallway. “You have a visitor.”

He throws on last night’s slacks and attempts to run a comb through his hair before running downstairs. Jensen is sitting on the living room couch, but he hops up when he sees Jared approaching.

“Hey,” Jensen says.

Jared runs his hands over his face. “Oh man, Jensen, I’m so sorry. I totally bailed on you last night, even after you gave that great speech and everything. I just… I didn’t know what – ”

“I spoke with your dad,” Jensen interrupts. “Right after you left. He seemed a little confused. You didn’t tell him anything?” Jared shakes his head. “Well, we talked. I told him how we would have been in a difficult place if you hadn’t helped us so much. And how your macaroni and cheese recipe was such a huge hit that it’ll be joining the menu permanently after the New Year.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Hell no. You really think I’d let something that delicious pass us by?” Jensen chuckles a bit. “But honestly, I told him that, and I promise you, after the surprise passed, he looked proud. Especially after the mayor started praising your name for that dish.”

It’s almost too much for Jared, and he has to sit down. He glimpses movement out of the corner of his eye and catches his parents passing by the room. His mother looks happy, but it’s his father that Jared watches. The man doesn’t smile, but he purses his lips and nods in acknowledgment, an indicator of a conversation to come. One that may be in Jared’s favor this time. Christmas miracles, indeed.

“Anyway,” Jensen continues, bringing Jared’s attention back to him. “I wanted to stop by and wish you a Merry Christmas. You missed the kitchen’s traditional ‘everyone’s gone; break out the champagne’ celebration. Osric managed to run his pants through the dishwasher this year.”

“Yeah, not entirely sorry I missed that,” Jared says, laughing.

“Also, I have a gift for you,” Jensen adds as he pulls a small wrapped box from his coat pocket. “It’s nothing, really, just something I saw that made me think of you.”

It’s fortune, really, that Jared never emptied his pockets last night, because Jensen’s gift is right at hand. He passes it over with a grin before tearing into his own gift. They’re both laughing when Jared ends up holding a mini Enterprise tree ornament that’s only slightly larger than Jensen’s Lego starfighter will end up being. Jensen throws his whole head back when he laughs, Jared’s pleased to see. It’s just one more thing he likes about the guy.

He’s staring at those happy wrinkles at the corners of Jensen’s eyes when he calms down enough to ask, “Would you want to go out sometime? On a date, I mean.”

“Really? Four years of detouring by the Bistro whenever you’re home from school, and you’re just now asking me out?” Jensen’s still smiling. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. I figured out what your car looked like after the one time you kept making U-turns for another look.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Made it a point to always wear my best-fitting pants on the first day of vacation.”

Jared can feel his cheeks heating up, but he doesn’t care. “So that’s a yes, then? I know a great restaurant in town we can go to.” Jensen smacks him on the shoulder. “Fine, bad joke. How do you feel about seeing a movie, with coffee afterwards?”

Jensen grins from ear to ear. “It’s a date.”

 

THE END!

 

**Author's Note:**

> Crazy huge thanks to cherie_morte for being an amazing beta and cheerleading me though the panic of possibly not getting this done in time.
> 
> I’ve never worked in a kitchen, other than a ma & pop pizza shop a decade ago (and I worked at the order counter). Everything I know about a gourmet kitchen, I learned from watching Ratatouille. If it’s wrong, Disney LIED TO ME.
> 
> I've never been an accountant either.


End file.
